


translucence

by reachforthesky



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Graduation, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Pining, i have no idea how to feel about this, like o h my god even by my standards this is angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-15 14:30:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9239078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reachforthesky/pseuds/reachforthesky
Summary: Yamaguchi knew how it felt to be the exception. He knew how it felt to be the object of a soft smile in a sea of grimaces and glares. And no matter what kind of longing thrummed under his skin, he knew not to be greedy.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nebluas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nebluas/gifts).



> tsukyam gift exchange for @kale-avacado! i piled on the angst as your prompt said ahaha. hope you enjoy this little story!!
> 
> this is also my first haikyuu fic :o hope to write many, many more :')

**i. the last winter**

Yamaguchi knew for a fact that he was Tsukishima’s favorite.

Mainly because Tsukishima didn’t _have_ anyone else to like more than him, and he filled the ‘mildly annoying childhood friend who is nice to have around, sometimes’ groove fairly well. Despite his myriad shortcomings and failures, Yamaguchi wasn’t going to be falling out of favor anytime soon. 

Yamaguchi was Tsukishima’s favorite, and that’s why he was the one sprawled across across Tsukishima’s bed as soft piano music filled the room. Tsukishima wasn’t even home yet. His mother had let Yamaguchi in half an hour ago, offering him a glass of water and telling him that Tsukishima was on the train home. 

“Did he call? How did it go?” he had asked.

She had only shrugged. “He texted. I couldn’t tell anything, for better or worse.”

Yamaguchi sat up as the door clicked open, peering at Tsukishima’s face, but he looked as aloof and collected as ever.

“Well?” he ventured.

Tsukishima sat down on the bed beside him, stretching out his legs and rolling his shoulders. Finally, he shot Yamaguchi a half-smile. 

“You never know until the results come out,” he hummed, the words hardly leaving his throat, but that was more than enough for Yamaguchi.

“Congrats, Tsukki!” he cried, leaning forward to hug him, but inches away he found himself settling for a playful shove instead. 

(Not now. This is a happy moment. _Not. Now._ )

In another moment, Tsukishima might have noticed even that, but he was preoccupied now with his apparent success. His eyes flitted across the room as if he was seeing it for the first time.

“How does it feel? Like a sack of bricks has been pulled off your back, right?”

Yamaguchi had taken his last exam yesterday and had spent the last twenty-four hours with more time and energy than he knew what to do with, especially as his best friend holed himself up in his room for a final night of cramming. Now they were both on the other side of the fence, the other side of their last winter, and -- _oh_ \-- for the first time since Yamaguchi walked out of the examination hall he felt the choking first of fear lodge itself in the pit of his stomach once more. 

“Well, we’re free now,” Tsukishima murmured. 

Yamaguchi forced himself to tear away from all the gloomy thoughts crowding his mind and focused instead on the sunny room, Tsukishima’s ashen, exhausted face, the slump of his spine against the wall. Reality finally began to settle in.

“It’s over, it’s over, it’s over,” he found himself chanting. 

Tsukishima gave a snort of laughter. “Did it take you a whole day to realize?”

“See, Tsukki, I have absolutely nothing to do when you’re not around, so in a way exams are only over for me when they’re over for you.”

“I’m touched,” Tsukishima said with a roll of his eyes. “Tea?”

“Oh, I want the one you make with lemon and ginger.”

He nodded, yawning, and got ready to untangle himself from the bed. By Tsukishima’s standards, that amount of wasted movement meant that he was practically asleep. 

“You stay here, I’ll get the tea,” Yamaguchi said, pushing Tsukishima back onto the bed, and he didn’t complain.

“Green tea in the dinosaur mug.”

“You got it.”

The sound of soft chatter wafted down the hallway in pleasant cadences as Yamaguchi went down the stairs -- Tsukishima’s mother on the phone, perhaps. It increased in volume as he approached the kitchen, and as he approached the doorway he heard his name. 

“... they’re both graduating this year, so … ” Tsukishima’s mother spoke so quietly that he had to strain to hear, despite lingering just outside the door.

“Won’t he have plans?” Akiteru’s voice -- he must have come home for the weekend. 

“If he does, then it’s not an issue. I think it would just be a nice thing to do.”

Akiteru hummed, reminiscent of his younger brother. “What does Kei think?”

“I didn’t even ask him.” She sounded taken aback. “It’s just Tadashi, after all. What reason would he have to disagree?”

 _Disagree to what?_ Yamaguchi was tempted to barge into the kitchen and ask for himself, but before he could make any sort of move cool air tickled the back of his neck. 

“Eavesdropping?” Tsukishima whispered directly into his ear.

(Holy _shit_ that was Tsukishima right next to him his mouth was practically touching his ear they were half an inch from embracing --)

It was all Yamaguchi could do to keep from shrieking and running into the kitchen. He remained rigid, acutely aware of the goosebumps rising on his neck as Tsukishima’s breath fluttered over it, until he stepped away a second later. It had felt more like a couple hundred centuries. 

“You were taking too long,” Tsukishima said. “I wanted my dinosaur tea.”

Yamaguchi was about to explain himself when the door swung open. He stumbled back, barely avoiding having his face crushed, and Tsukishima made a tiny noise of surprise.

“Perfect timing,” Akiteru said, gesturing them inside. “A small discussion, if you will?”

Tsukishima looked at Yamaguchi, as if asking for an explanation (he’d been the one eavesdropping, after all) but he only shrugged. They sat down at the table across from Tsukishima’s mother. She gave them a cheery smile, but said nothing.

“You know how we go on vacation to the same place every spring?” Akiteru asked Yamaguchi. 

“Yeah. Your summer house, right?”

“Right,” he said. “Well, I can’t make it this year. I’m traveling to America for work.”

“You are?” Tsukishima stopped cleaning his glasses and looked up. 

“It was a sudden decision, and I normally would have declined, but long story short we have a free space.”

The pieces Yamaguchi had overheard began to fit together. _(A nice thing to do.)_ “Oh, I couldn’t encroach like that.”

“Not at all,” Tsukishima’s mother said. “We’d be delighted to have you along. If you’re free, that is.”

“I’m not following this.” Tsukishima put his glasses back on and frowned at his mother. “Yamaguchi’s coming with us on vacation?”

“You’re okay with it, right?” she answered. 

“Yeah, I -- yeah,” he said, but it was impossible to miss the crease that lined his forehead as if he was puzzling out the timing for a block. “Of course it’s fine. Yamaguchi?”

“Ah, it’s really kind of you, um, and I’d be happy to go along but --”

“Then it’s settled,” said Akiteru, and just like that, they were back in Tsukishima’s room with matching mugs of dinosaur green tea.

“You’re really okay with it?” Yamaguchi asked timidly. “It was really sudden.”

“Why would I not be okay with it? You’re infinitely better than my brother.”

“But it’s called a family vacation for a reason --”

“Yamaguchi.” Tsukishima met his eyes. “Stop. Worrying.”

“I know, I know, I just…” Yamaguchi trailed off. 

What was he worried about? The half-frown Tuskishima had made when he first heard the news. The way he’d felt when Tsukishima had stood so close behind him. The prospect of spring break, because spring meant endings and beginnings (without Tsukishima Kei).

“If you don’t want to, it’s fine,” Tsukishima mumbled, his gaze dropping to the ground. 

Yamaguchi hesitated for a moment. “Do you want me along, Tsukki?”

He chewed on his lip, watching the sunlight fall onto the carpet as the clouds shifted outside.

“Yeah, I do.”

The overwhelming pull that drowned Yamaguchi was startling but familiar, the sensation he felt whenever Tsukishima let down his guard for a millisecond or wrapped his bony fingers around Yamaguchi’s wrist. He wanted to lean closer, let his fingers roam over the figure that he could visualize like his very own, but he knew that Tsukishima would only pull away. 

(He _knew_ because it had happened before.)

The other side of entrance exams. The cherry blossom trees getting ready to flower. In two months he would be in the same room as Tsukishima, and after three they might never touch again.

\--

**ii. rising smoke**

“Do you think there’s something outside the universe?”

Yamaguchi figured it was about two in the morning. Tsukishima lay on the futon beside him, his eyes wide as if the prospect of sleep never crossed his mind. If Yamaguchi closed his eyes know he’d be out in a matter of seconds, but he couldn’t pass up a single opportunity for conversation. 

(Not _now_. Not on the other side of their last winter.)

“I guess. Parallel universes, right?”

“Parallel universes cease to exist as soon as you make a decision,” Tsukishima said. “So they only exist in the split second where multiple options exist.”

“You’re getting too deep for me.” Yamaguchi yawned. “Doesn’t it exist as long as it’s there at all?”

“Does it have to occupy a space outside the universe? What about a parallel dimension?”

“I don’t know, Tsukki. I can hardly even fathom the dimension I live in.”

That wasn’t really true. There was a strange dimension that existed in the realm between midnight and 5 A.M., where Tsukishima spoke without hesitation and Yamaguchi hung onto every word he could understand. A narrow glimpse into a universe that remained hidden even after all these years -- the things that went on in Tsukishima’s mind that he didn’t care to say. 

Especially for the past two days and seventeen hours, especially since Yamaguchi had boarded a train with the Tsukishimas and settled into their quaint little countryside property, things had taken an abrupt turn. That universe had expanded and his window had narrowed, a single slit in an endless murky void.

The closer he crept to Tsukishima, the farther he seemed to get. 

Just earlier, Tsukishima had pulled on Yamaguchi what was practically Akiteru-exclusive behavior: refusing to go on a walk with him, stretched out on his futon with a book in hand. Yamaguchi couldn’t unsee the downward turn to his usual frown that had made it more like a grimace. It hadn’t been thoughtful or annoyed or aloof, just -- pained, maybe. Angry.

(“It’s nothing.” “It’s nothing.” “It’s _nothing._ ”)

The words had always been an insult Yamaguchi couldn’t bear to hear. After all, who likes to be lied to?

(“Tsukki, tell me what’s wrong,” a wispy excuse of a freckled child pleaded. And always, he’d get that disdainful stare that he come to recognize as a guard, and as fear.)

But over the past three years, Yamaguchi had begun to pride himself on being able to get through to Tsukishima when no one else could, to be the one who saw past his I’m-too-cool facade and shouted some sense back into him. Now, he could taste the words on his tongue -- _what’s wrong?_ \-- but wouldn’t dare to attempt something so futile. 

_Honestly._ Was he going backwards?

(“Be more courageous,” said Tsukishima with his eyes rather than his mouth, watching Yamaguchi’s hands tremble as he tossed the ball.)

(“You’re not lame at all.”)

Tsukishima’s hand lay palm-up just inches for his own, the uncannily long fingers curled towards the ceiling. The open space of smooth skin that was obscured now by the night -- Yamaguchi could so easily fit his fingers into that hollow space if he wasn’t such a coward. 

He mouthed the words to himself: _I am in love with you, Tsukishima Kei. Tsukki --_

“Tsukki.”

“What?”

_I am in love with you I am in love with you I am in love with you-_

“....Yamaguchi?” 

The small silence that followed crackled with tension. Yamaguchi could feel the heaviness of the air settling on his shoulders, so much so that he actually looked for sparks as if something were to combust between them. But there was only Tsukishima, his finely drawn profile, and the glow of a golden bird’s eyes as he turned to face him. 

“What’s wrong?”

What if he spoke those words aloud? The thought tormented him, the smoke of the fire he’d been nursing since the beginning of time rising and billowing over everything rational in his mind. _Parallel universes only exist in the split second where multiple options exist_ , he thought numbly, and wished that he could salvage the universe where he had the courage to open his mouth. He wished he could salvage the universe where Tsukishima Kei maybe, possibly, loved him back.

“I wish we could see the parallel universes before they disappeared,” he blurted out, and to his surprise Tsukishima let out a throaty chuckle. 

“That’d just be seeing the future.”

With his half-hearted words the potent atmosphere surrounding them had crumbled. He heard Tsukishima’s voice again, distorted through the many layers separating them, and he finally succumbed to the much more familiar void of sleep. 

Yamaguchi dreamt of a sunny street-side, the blue, blue sky that had too much paint poured into it, the sun that burned incessantly on their bare necks. Tsukishima, lanky even at fourteen, sat collapsed on the sidewalk. The blood that dripped from his temple was a thousand times brighter than the sun or sky. 

(Typical, that he would have _that_ dream at _this_ time.)

Tsukishima, aloof even at fourteen, looked aghast at the tears splashing onto the pavement, darkening little spots from gray to black. Yamaguchi traced the steps the old him had taken, staggering to the side of his _best friend_ , emotions rising in a cloud of haze and smoke as his arms snaked around Tsukishima’s on instinct alone.

Yamaguchi had dreamed in fear for as long as he could remember. This was no different; the familiar sensation choked him as the scene in front of him blurred and slowed, although he knew what happened next. He _knew_ the feeling of elbows cutting into his stomach and legs kicking him away, and the words spat out between sobs -- _“Don’t touch me.”_

“I’m sorry,” Yamaguchi said. “I didn’t mean to.”

A sudden thunderstorm began and his half-lucid dream began to turn surreal. The space between him and Tsukishima burst into flames and they both recoiled from the harsh burn, scrambling further and further from one another. 

When he woke, it was to the sound of the door closing. 

\--

**iii. the inevitable fall**

Tsukishima was stringing together wildflowers on the riverbank when Yamaguchi found him. 

The clouds hung pink and orange above them, glowing under the rising sun. It was a morning meant to veil, Yamaguchi thinks, but what, he doesn’t know. There are a thousand little things. A thousand scraps of feather meant to cushion him from the inevitable fall. 

_(I am in love with you, Tsukishima Kei.)_

Honesty. _Honestly._ He wished for blunt words and gleaming edges, a clean slice through his flesh to the blood pulsing underneath. He could see it, still, the mark on Tsukishima’s right temple where he fell and cried and changed everything four years ago. 

Tsukishima didn’t say anything even as Yamaguchi sat down beside him. They observed the sunrise in solace, and Tsukishima threaded another flower into his garland. 

“When did you wake up?” Yamaguchi asked finally. “We only slept at around two, you know.”

“Around six.” He looked it. Even behind his glasses, the shadows were clearly visible.

“Did you even sleep at all?”

Tsukishima shrugged. “I usually don’t get much sleep. It’s fine.”

The words grated on Yamaguchi harsher than they should -- in that perfect moment, he hated the softness and distance between them. _It’s nothing, it’s nothing, it’s nothing._

“What?” Tsukishima asked a little testily. 

“It’s nothing,” Yamaguchi said, testing the words on his lips. They tasted like pavement. 

“Lately, you’ve been --” Tsukishima cleared his throat; his gaze flitted around the horizon as if searching for some piece of the sky to hang on to. “Strange. Acting… strange.”

“Lately? _Me?_ ” 

“Yeah, you,” snapped Tsukishima. “I’ve never had to guess at your thoughts before.”

“Then you’ve been spoiled,” Yamaguchi said. As if on cue, his eyes began to sting. “What do you think I’ve been doing since… since forever?”

The fist that sat cold and choking between his ribs, the smoke in his mind -- whatever names he wanted to use for these tidal waves of frustration and fear -- were snowballing into something he couldn’t stop. 

“Speaking of acting strange, what’s with you?” he said, fighting to keep his voice steady. “Why have you been acting as if you don’t _want_ me here?”

Great. He said it. It sounded so much more real now that it sat between them, the package now one wanted to open. 

“Why would I --” Tsukishima began, but he knew he’d been caught. “That’s not what this is.”

“Really,” spat Yamaguchi, every syllable torn from under his skin. “Then why have you been -- avoiding me, and only _really_ talking at, like, 2 AM and even then, it’s only about parallel universes or something.”

“What else am I supposed to talk about?” Tsukishima said evenly. 

There were a thousand things. A thousand things veiled by the sunrise. 

“Four years ago, when you fell and hit your head on the pavement…”

Tsukishima’s head swiveled slightly towards him. “Where did that come from?”

“So you do remember.”

“I had to get four stitches. Of course I remember.”

“Do you remember how I tried to comfort you?”

There was a steely silence. 

“Yeah.”

“I’ve never tried to touch you since.”

“I was just upset.”

“I _know_ , but I couldn’t bear to test those boundaries at all -- maybe it was selfish, but --”

Yamaguchi laid out his words one by one in his head, trying to say something to Tsukishima now that he had him open and intrigued. In hours the morning would be over, and in days the week would be over, and in weeks spring would be over and Tsukishima would be flying to Kyoto University. But somewhere between his throat and his mouth the sentences slipped together, and --

“I have been in love with you ever since I could remember, Tsukki.”

He knew how it felt to be the exception. He knew how it felt to be the object of a soft smile in a sea of grimaces and glares. And no matter what kind of longing thrummed under his skin, Yamaguchi knew not to be greedy. 

But he’d still tried to reach for something more. 

“No, no, no,” Tsukishima muttered, and the first of many masks crumbled.

“Wh-what?” 

His ears were beginning to ring. In _facing his fears_ , he’d somehow gone horribly wrong, and now -- Tsukishima’s teeth were gritted into an even line, but it wasn’t enough to hide the rapid rise and fall of his chest. He still wouldn’t even meet Yamaguchi’s eyes.

“Now? You tell me this _now?_ ”

“I had to say it before --”

“Before what? Before we fucking _graduate_ and fly in opposite directions? Because let me tell you, that will be a great thing to have weighing on my mind during my first semester at Kyoto.” 

Tsukishima’s voice broke as he struggled to maintain that iconic facade that Yamaguchi had really thought he had worked around. He needed to see Tsukishima’s nails and claws and bared teeth -- he needed to see _honesty_ \-- but all he ever got was this. Yamaguchi should have just kept his mouth shut. He was a coward at heart, after all, and no _what ifs_ were worth seeing Tsukishima like this. 

“So you would have rather I just kept it a secret my whole life?”

“No, I -- no. I don’t _know_ what I want, I’m just sick of this.

“The pity vacation for the two soon-to-be-separated best friends. Everyone trying to stuff all the things they meant to say or do into these last few months. It all gets messy and tangled and I -- I just don’t want to delude myself into thinking there’s something waiting for us after this.”

Maybe Yamaguchi was crying now, but he didn’t _care_ because the Tsukishima Kei who he was in love with had just called his decade-due confession messy and tangled. He took a lot of things lying down, but he was done being the better person. 

“So you just -- it’s just your high school best friend, and you’ll box him away? A fond memory?”

“You can be a _fucking_ idealist all you want, Tada -- Yamaguchi, but the fact remains that after this we won’t be living in a baby pool anymore.”

“You can’t get around me, Tsukki. You have this little plan of ending things neatly and stepping away calmly because that's all you know how to do with things you can’t bear to part with. Calm and methodical. As always.”

Tsukishima stood up, all two meters of him tilting terrifyingly above him. When he spoke, it was eerily quiet.

“It’s only because there will _never_ be another Yamaguchi Tadashi in my life.”

Wildly, Yamaguchi thought of their other dimension, the inches between their palms on the futon, and the smallness of their own high-school life. There were countless moments where he could have bridged that gap, an infinity within a closed space, but he'd waited for so long because he'd been _scared_. And this is where it had taken him.

Tsukishima’s bare feet crushed the flower garland as he stepped away from him. “Happy now?”

Yamaguchi had gotten his _honesty_. Everything was drained clean, a thousand feathers spat onto the ground. But time still refused to stop.

**Author's Note:**

> written to a mix of ichigo aoba (esp. fuwa rin), vienna teng, and kishi bashi :o
> 
> grab me on tumblr @cloudledee (main) or @tobiiuo (hq) !


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